


Nice To Know You

by tea_and_outer_space



Category: Steam Powered Giraffe
Genre: Angst, F/F, G/T, Macro/Micro, Robot Feels, music box
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 11:23:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6282658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_and_outer_space/pseuds/tea_and_outer_space
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rabbit spends her days with a void in her soul, watching the figurine in her music box, wanting to feel something.<br/>The others' worry leads to a simple conclusion, she needs to talk to someone, and if it won't be any of them, it'll be the box.<br/>And thus the figurine comes to life, their tragedy set in motion.<br/>-<br/>Or, the music box from TBTC has a dancer in it, and she becomes Honeybee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nice To Know You

 

Robotic fingers twitched slightly, and the second the chimes emitting from the music box died, she turned the key again.

Several twists, and the box sprang to life once more.

The small dancer in the box spun around, arms and legs eternally in a dancing pose, a lifeless smile on it's metal lips.

The tune sounding from the box was soft, something the automaton used to rest to, she hummed under her breath when preparing for shows, she listened to when her eyes were too clouded with black oil tears to see.

Rabbit sighed.

She hadn't been resting. She had been finding ways to get out of shows. And she hadn't even felt up to crying.

She snapped the lid of the box shut, the music cutting off mid-tune. She propped up her hand on her chin and traced the lid with a finger screwing her eyes shut.

The song, the box, the dancer, it used to make her hurt.

Now, it didn't.

Now, she didn't feel anything.

All she wanted to do was hurt.

-

The Spine edged away from the room, deciding it best to just leave Rabbit be. Whatever reason he may have had to talk to her, it wasn't important enough to disturb her.  
She had the box out.

The music box was something of a double edged sword to Rabbit. On the one hand, it reminded her of Julia, it reminded her of Upgrade and preforming at the zoo, of all the adventures her and her brothers and sister had in those years.

On the other hand, it reminded her of everything she lost.

It reminded her of Julia and how humans die, it reminded her of Upgrade and how robots leave. It reminded her of the zoo and how places change, it reminded her of how adventures always end.

She had told all of this to The Spine once before, in a moment where the bots were sat on the floor and she had clasped the box tight against her chest, in one of those talks that only tend to happen late at night.

“ _Why do you even still have that?” The Spine asked, not meaning malice, genuinely curious. They hadn't seen Julia in years, she might not even be alive, human lifespans were odd and time was fast, the bots were never sure if any of the humans they'd left would still be there to return to. Julia hadn't been seen in years, she could be gone like the rest._

“ _I dunno,” Rabbit answered, turning the box around in her hands. She didn't open the lid, and she didn't wind the key. The song was for her, and for her only. Words had been rolling about in her head, maybe she'd write them down and sing them out one day, but as for now, the music box was **hers.** “It m-m-makes me sad.”_

“ _You shouldn't keep it, then.”_

_Rabbit smiled, a sad, little, half smile._

_The Spine was barely younger than she was, but she still had to explain things sometimes. She was surprised he hadn't figured this one out yet._

“ _H-hurting isn't always b-b-b-bad, Spine,” she told him, “S-sometimes I need it. B-because I can't remember the g-g-good things without hurting. Pappy and Ma and the other Peters, Upgrade and Hatchworth. Julia. The b-box reminds me of them. All of them. It hurts, but it's a g-good hurt.”_

“ _Oh,” The Spine said, watching his sister watch the box._

“ _I l-listen to it when I want to r-remember. Or h-h-h-h-hurt. Or just f-f-feel something. I haven't been feeling m-much of anything l-lately.”_

The Spine couldn't quite remember how long ago that conversation had happened. It could have been weeks, months, years. But the memory still stayed, and Spine never forgot that comment.

Rabbit listened to the box when she wanted to hurt.

She'd been listening to it a lot lately.

The Spine turned down the hall, leaving the bot's living quarters and heading into more populated areas of the manor. He dodged other bots and Walter Workers, maids and cooks and the dozens of other people it took to keep the manor in shape.

He crossed the manor until he was near Peter the Sixth's lab, but before he could even head down the elevator the masked Walter ran into him.

“Spine!” he greeted, “You'll never guess what I just blew up!”

He dimmed a little, once he saw The Spine's expression. It was rare the titanium automaton wore his expressions so openly, but he did always have a soft spot when it came to his siblings.

“What's wrong?” he asked, voice full of worry.

“She has the music box out again,” The Spine said, and that was all that really needed to be said.

Peter 6 didn't know as much about the box or Julia that The Spine did, but he did know enough to be concerned. As far as he knew, she listened to the box when she was sad, and she was currently sad enough to listen to it daily.

“Oh,” Peter replied, frowning underneath his mask.  
“This isn't good,” The Spine said, “We need to do something.”

Peter nodded in agreement, rocking back on his heels while he thought.

“She hasn't been leaving her room, doing shows, doing _anything,_ ” The Spine continued, his shoulders sagging, “All she does is listen to the box.”

“If she had someone to reach out to, besides that damned box,” Six mused, and that's when a thought struck the Spine.

He nearly shoved it aside, it was one of those odd thoughts that could end in tragedy if they screwed it up, but he latched onto it.

It was a little crazy, but he was a seven foot tall automaton living in a mansion without doors, crazy was the norm.

“What if she talked to the box?”

-

“W-w-where are we go-go-go-going?” Rabbit questioned, as The Jon practically shoved her through the doorway of Walter Manor.

The two of them hadn't been in the home for at least a week, off to Kazzooland, on several train rides, possibly to the ocean once or twice. The Jon hadn't given her room to pause and take a breath once, constantly ushering her onto the next place.

“To the lab!” The Jon replied, cheerfully. Once The Spine and Peter had told him what they had planned for Rabbit, he was more than eager to take part in it, his job being keeping Rabbit away.

Rabbit frowned.

“Why?”  
“Because!”

“Because why?”

“Because why because!”

“B-Because why because _why_?”

“Because why because why because!”

They didn't reach the lab until several dozen because's and why's later, The Jon practically tugging his sister into the room, not letting go of her hand until they were in front of the Spine and Peter.

Jon bounced on his heels, grinning brightly, buzzing with energy. Peter seemed to match his enthusiasm, and even The Spine seemed excited. Rabbit glanced between all of them, a confused look on her rusted faceplate.

She was about to question _why_ once more, when her eyes landed on Peter's workbench.

The box was sitting there.

 _Her box_ was sitting there.

She snatched it up in a heartbeat, a scowl replacing her confused look, her not even noticing The Spine's subtle flinch towards the box.

“I t-t-t-t-told you never to touch it!” she snapped. It was rare she kept any of her things away from her siblings, but the box wasn't just a box, it was _The Box_ , it was so much more.

“Rabbit-” Peter began.

“What if you had b-broken it,” she said, clutching the box to her chest gently, “I can't lose it!”

“Rabbit,” The Spine said, calmly, “We were just trying to cheer you up. Open it.”

Rabbit's optics narrowed.

“What did you do to it?”

The Jon, who hadn't stopped bouncing in place even with Rabbit's outburst, beamed.

“Something great!”

She turned her head to him.

“You knew about th-this?”

“Just open it, Rabbit,” Peter told her. “We didn't break it, only changed something.”

Her eyes narrowed again.

“Go to your room, take all the time you need,” The Spine told her, slightly more understanding of her worry over the music box than the others. “We didn't break anything, and I think you'll like what we did.”

Rabbit frowned, holding the box gently in her arms, and without another word turned, headed for her room.

She was prepared to give the box a full inspection, if a single thing was broken or messed up, well, she didn't even know what she'd do.

The music box was so much more than a music box.

She entered her room, shutting the door firmly behind her, locking it too. It was rare she shut it at all, but today she felt she rather wanted to be alone.

She crossed the room swiftly, setting the box gently down on her desk, before taking a seat before it.

With a quick glance over she could tell the outside was alright, she took it in her hands to tilt it to inspect the underside-

“Ah!”

The voice was barely audible, quiet and surprised.

And it came from the box.

Rabbit quickly righted the box, setting it down again, drawing her hands back. She was almost too afraid to touch it, now that it _spoke_.

Silence filled her room, and there was nothing more than her own heart ticking, and if she listened closely, something ticking inside the box.

Rabbit bit her lip hesitantly, drawing a hand up. She took a deep breath, unlatched the box, and flipped the lid open.

Two wide eyes stared up at her.

Rabbit's lips parted, her head tilted, her barely comprehending what was going on.

The lifeless figurine that had once graced the inside platform of the music box looked up at her, her eyes very much alive. Her tiny fingers toyed with the hem of her dress, her looking just as nervous as Rabbit felt.

The robot, who couldn't have been more than three inches tall, stood to her feet, on the small platform that she used to spin endlessly on. She looked up at Rabbit, eyes narrowed in thought for a moment, before her delicate features spread into a smile.

“Hello,” she said softly, with a slight nervous laugh.

Rabbit stared down at the small automaton, trying to comprehend the fact that the dancer she'd stare at was now _alive_.

The small bot watched Rabbit with golden eyes, her smile wavered a little as she got nervous that she said the wrong thing.

“H-h-hi,” Rabbit said, breathlessly.

 

**Author's Note:**

> so, this is based off of one idea. The music box from Turn Back The Clock had a figurine in it, and the figurine comes to life, and becomes Honeybee. and because I can't help myself when it comes to gay robot romance or angst, here we are.  
> i hope you enjoyed, and i'll try to get the next chapter out soon!


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